


What kind of orgy leaves a sense of deeper love?

by Tochka_Grozdev



Category: Eternal Law
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, M/M, More tags to be added, Things I want Tobias Menzies to do to me, This is going to get smutty bc OF COURSE, mentions of domestic abuse, religious trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29900778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tochka_Grozdev/pseuds/Tochka_Grozdev
Summary: Blake Parlet is a former linguistics student with some deeply rooted unresolved religious trauma, absolutely fed up with Christians and their god. He lives with his friends – Gwilym Oakley (a transgender man), Hope and Michelle Johnson (domestic violence survivors) – in the suburbs of York and looks for a job to make ends meet. When he finally finds one (an assistant slash secretary in a law firm), his little life will be turned upside down.
Relationships: Richard Pembroke/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [i_dwell_in_darkness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_dwell_in_darkness/gifts).



> I deeply apologize for any grammar mistakes. Also please take in consideration that I don't know shit about British legal system.
> 
> Title taken from “You need satan more than he needs you” by Future of the Left.

It was late Thursday afternoon when the door to a little flat in the suburbs of York opened and a tall man marched inside. He took off his shoes and entered the kitchen, placing bags of groceries on the floor.

“Hi, kids!” he called into the flat. “Good news! There's this chance I'll get this job, you know what that means? No more feeding on frozen pizza exclusively and noodles with broccoli on Sundays! We're gonna be upper middle class, girls!”

“Why are you screaming your ass off, B?” From one of the rooms poked up a round face with short black hair. “What job are you talking about? I think I'm a bit behind all the news, y'know, studies…”

“I know, I know, Willy, come here, I'll tell you everything.”

Willy, Gwilym Oakley, stumbled out of his room, came into the kitchen and immediately put his nose into the bags.

“The girls aren't there?” Blake asked, thinking about their two other flatmates.

“Hope's at work, Miche's at school, what did you expect?” answered Gwilym with his mouth full of carrot. “Now tell me 'bout your great new job, will you?”

“Oh, I absolutely will. It's in a law firm, bro.”

Willy raises an eyebrow at his friend. “And what will you be doing there?”

Blake smiled confidently and took a big bite of the carrot his friend was holding in his hand. “As a linguist,” he said with his mouth full “I will be teaching the intellectual poverty of dodgy eels and weasels, also known as lawyers, to communicate more efficiently.”

Gwilym almost choked on his carrot. “You'll be doing _what_?!”

“Never mind, that was supposed to be a joke. It's something my friend from college once said when we're doing some group project about what linguists can teach lawyers. Sorry for my shitty sense of humour, I doubt I'll be teaching anyone anything. They're looking for an assistant to some dude called Richard Pembroke, so I'll probably be making coffee and shit or carrying the dodgy weasel's briefcase around. Anyway big money's coming, baby! If only they'll employ me, y'know.”

The next day, early afternoon, Blake's phone started ringing, when he was in the middle of chopping onions and his vision was half-blurry with tears. He wiped his hands on his apron, sniffled loudly and picked up.

“Mr Parlet,” said a female voice on the other end “you have this job. Starting on monday.”

Blake thanked her, bid her goodbye and hung up. Then he squeed.

“Got this weasel, yeah, baby! We're going upper middle class!” he announced to the half-chopped onion.

The onion did not honour him with an answer. Who knows, maybe it has already predicted how all of this was going to develop. Taking the following events in consideration, it wouldn't be the most fucked up thing that transpired those days.

Plus, looking forward, the onion might have been right.


	2. Mr Dodgy Weasel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the weasel himself is encountered, conclusions are made and crushes are developed.

It took Blake exactly twenty eight seconds with his new boss to come to a conclusion. It was a very short and concise conclusion, namely: he was fucked. Deeply and utterly fucked.

Richard Pembroke did not look like a weasel. He was a tall, slim man with dark hair, dark eyes, strong jaw and the most beautiful cheekbones Blake’s ever seen. And _then_ there were these lines on his cheeks… Blake Parlet would pay real money just to be allowed to lick those creases on Mr Pembroke’s face. Or maybe something else too. Logically, he was aware of the fact that such actions between handsome posh lawyers and their secretaries (especially male ones) happen mostly in porn, but in his heart he had already come on this desk like a hundred times and also named their cat.

As soon as he’s left by himself, Blake takes out his phone and starts reporting to Willy.

_B, 9:47am I saw a man so beautiful I started crying_

_B, 9:47am I think I’m in love_

_Mr Willy, 9:49am Show me the cat_

_B, 9:50am This time it’s not a cat, Willy_

_Mr Willy, 9:50am So what is it?_

_B, 9:50am THE BLASTED DODGY EEL AND WEASEL_

_B, 9:51am Aka the Pembroke guy_

_B, 9:51am With those damned Nazca Lines on his stupid fucking face_

_Mr Willy, 9:52am show me_

It takes only a moment to download the photo from official site of the firm and send it to Gwilym.

_B, 9:55am_

_Mr Willy, 9:56am RECTANGLE_

_B, 9:56am Fuck off_

_Mr Willy, 9:57am but seriously_

_Mr Willy, 9:57am take a protractor to the dude and youll find some right angles there bro_

_B, 9:57am Very funny, Gwilym, really_

_Mr Willy, 9:57am I know;)_

_B, 9:57am Well, anyway_

_B, 9:58am As long as I have a face, this man will have a place to sit_

_Mr Willy, 9:58am One thing bro_

_Mr Willy, 9:58am Dont get urself fired on the first day_

_B, 9:58am I won’t_

_B, 9:59am Pinky promise_

A meaningful grunt comes from above him. Blake slowly raises his eyes and finds himself looking at the handsome face of his new boss, towering over him, his mouth quirked into a wry smile.

“How long do I have to wait for my coffee, Mr Parlet? Are you off, planting Coffea bushes?” he asks mockingly. “Or just _buggering around_ , mhm?”

Parlet can feel his throat (and some other parts of his anatomy too) tightening, as he hears the man saying ‘buggering’ in this deep voice of his. His voice is as beautiful as the rest of him and Blake has difficulties concentrating.

 _Dont get urself fired on the first day_. He made a promise to Willy. He mustn’t fuck this up, so that his friend can continue studying. He forces himself to take a deep breath and stands up.

“I’m t–terribly sorry, Mr Pembroke, I just… I'm just a little hearing problems sometimes plus I got distracted… It won't happen again, I swear…”

The lawyer cuts this mumbling with a dismissive wave of one of his big, sexy hands. Blake manages to drive away some very _indecent_ thoughts about those hands and not to start drooling. He tries to look at the man's face.

“Oh, I’m sure it won't happen again, Mr Parlet” says Mr Pembroke. It somehow sounds more menacing than it has any right to. Blake tries not to imagine this man bending him over his desk and giving him a spanking…

“Y–yes…” He bites his tongue at the last moment before he adds ‘sir’.

“Great. Now go and make me a coffee before I fall asleep over Mrs Lloyd's _fascinating_ case.”

“Of course, Mr Pembroke, right away.” He rushes to the coffee express.

“Good boy” murmurs the lawyer and Blake almost trips over his own feet. 

He tries to calm down both his mind _and_ his dick, which isn't easy when you simultaneously also try to make coffee that is actually drinkable. He has an odd feeling of being watched, but when he gingerly turns back, Pembroke is gone. Whatever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise smut in the next chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> The eels and weasels quote is a real one, and it was really written by my friend from college during a group project.


End file.
